


Sharpen your weapons

by Iithril



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Panic Attacks, Sparring, Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:15:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25151488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iithril/pseuds/Iithril
Summary: Matt and Frank take Karen to a self-defense training session in the woods.
Relationships: Frank Castle & Karen Page, Frank Castle/Matt Murdock, Matt Murdock & Karen Page
Comments: 8
Kudos: 37
Collections: Daredevil Bingo





	Sharpen your weapons

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a fill for the prompt _Eskrima/Arnis/Kali_ on my Daredevil Bingo Card! 
> 
> As always, all my gratitude goes to [EachPeachPearPlum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EachPeachPearPlum) for her fantastic work as my beta!
> 
> Warning for the fic: Karen has a panic attack and it reminds her of bad memories.

She had asked him to train her. At first, of course, he had refused. Always with good reason, always with proper counterarguments. After all, it was his job. 

She was more stubborn than he had ever been, even though he could be pretty stubborn sometimes. But he didn’t know what it was like to be constantly dismissed for being a woman, to express an opinion only to have it ignored or disrespected, to ask countless times for something that should be an automatic right. 

So she had kept asking. She had found new, creative means of asking. In the middle of a conversation. After a successful trial. With a note in braille hidden in the middle of a stack of legal documents. 

She respected him, so she had wanted a fair victory. She never brought the subject up when he was drinking, never intentionally shamed him or tried to make him feel guilty for refusing to teach her. 

But she needed it. And even if she could have paid for a class, searched around for a club or settled for an online course (something he would have hated; he had told her many times that online courses weren’t suitable when it came to fighting), she couldn’t experience the  _ feelings _ . The effort, the sharpness of the opponent, and all the little things that the course couldn’t plan but that a real enemy could do. 

Even if she could have paid for a class, she didn’t want to. She had seen him fight, knew he was very good at it, and she wanted  _ him _ to teach her. 

It was a stroke of luck that she landed on one of Matt’s weak spots. She had mentioned Frank, considered out loud the possibility of asking him, knowing that he would probably say yes more easily than Matt. Frank always insisted people had to know how to defend themselves. He might argue that he was there to protect her the same way Matt had, but he would have still shown her some tricks for when he wasn’t there. 

That had been the final blow to Matt’s determination. He had come to her office at the Bulletin with the exact type of coffee she ordered every morning – knowing him, he had probably smelt it on her and made a guess. Ellison had been a little… circumspect, to say the least, but he had shown Matt the way to Karen’s office. 

And there, Matt had announced that he would teach her. 

And because they liked to compete with each other, bantering constantly in a soft but undeniably passionate way, Frank had texted her less than an hour later, offering to teach her. Matt must have complained about it since the very first time she asked, and who was he complaining to? The guy he was now living with, Frank Castle. 

Now that she thought about it, Frank had probably offered to teach her, which must have meant Matt had adamantly refused and convinced him not to say anything to her. 

She turned to her passengers. They were driving towards a forested area Frank knew of, Karen at the wheel, Matt next to her and Frank in the back seat, currently fidgeting with a knife. 

“Matt.” Karen enquired. He turned to her, his expression interrogative. “Have you been planning on saying yes all this time? Since I asked you?”

He gave her a small smile, and Frank snorted. 

“He was insufferable, Karen.” he said before Matt could reply, his voice a gleeful rumble. “He kept telling me about your requests, every single time. He was even doing your voice. Honestly don’t want to hear that ever again.”

She was too focused on the winding road to be able to do anything to Matt, so she shot him an angry glare and tried not to let her indignation at being fooled be contaminated by his joy at having done so. 

“When you’re done with my training, let me tell you one thing.” She was hammering every word with her fist on the wheel. “I’ll get my revenge.”

Matt raised his hands and inclined his head, accepting his fate, and Frank patted Karen on the shoulder. 

“Attagirl! I can’t wait to see you kick his ass,” he added, laughing. 

~°~

Matt had told her to dress comfortably in sports clothes, and was carrying a bag containing protective pads. The soil was dry and the forest buzzed with the birdsong and the sound of insects. It was a bit chilly under the shadow of the trees, but she was soon enough warmed up. 

They walked for a couple of minutes until they found a spot that pleased Matt. Then they started stretching, and Karen regretted breaking her New Year’s resolution to go to her yoga classes more often. Frank mocked Matt all the way through, but complied with his every direction diligently. And he turned out to be more flexible than she thought, which let her think it wasn’t the first time they stretched together, both of them. 

Matt went to search for nine sticks, which he made the same length by snapping them over his knee before putting them into three triangle shapes. He proceeded to explain the theory of basic movements according to Arnis, the martial art he wanted to teach her. It was based on simple things, at least  _ in theory _ . She had to stand with the base of the triangle behind her, one foot on either of the sloping sides. Because she was right handed, she had to put her left leg in front, grounded on the floor, and her right leg behind, soft and light, ready to bounce. 

From the bag he had dumped on the trunk of a fallen tree, Matt pulled out his fighting sticks. They were originally from his Daredevil battle suit, but after what happened, he was reluctant to wear it again, which was understandable. 

He twirled them in his hand, seemingly appreciating the feel of the metal. Karen witnessed again how at ease he was with them, how effortlessly he was throwing them around, like he was taming them after a long absence. She noticed from the corner of her eyes how Frank was looking at Matt. He wore on his face a mix of tenderness and pride, and there was this thrill in his eyes, as if he was taking measure of an opponent to defeat. Karen made a mental note to be there the day they sparred together, for it promised to be really interesting. 

“Karen, you’re not focused.” Matt’s gentle tone brought her back to his demonstration of how to parry simple attacks. She laughed apologetically and tried to concentrate on what Matt was saying, but she kept admiring his movements and his grace. 

“That’s no use, Red. You should spar with her to help her understand. She’s never trained before, remember that.” Frank was standing tall, each foot at a side of his triangle, in a relaxed stance that seemed nonthreatening but probably wasn’t. 

Matt stopped waving his sticks and sighed. “I don’t want to hurt her, Frank.” He continued before Frank could say anything. “I know, I probably won’t, at least let me worry.”

Frank snorted and muttered to himself, but Matt caught it anyway and pointed at him with one of his sticks. “You should worry about your ass, not mine!” 

Karen’s falsely horrified “Matt!” made them laugh, before her friend searched in his bag again and took out a pair of wooden sticks similar to his own. 

“Take your time to let your hand get used to them. Twirl them, throw them in the air, just... get used to them.” Matt let out while sitting down in the middle of his triangle. 

She tried to do as he had told her to, but she couldn’t help feeling a bit silly, like a majorette. She mimicked Matt’s previous movements, the way he was splitting the air and striking with deadly precision, and soon she found herself out of breath, but she kept on trying. She really wanted to understand the mechanism and appreciate the opportunity Matt had given her. 

“You might want to breathe more regularly. Think of breathing in as you prepare, breathing out as you strike. Keep a low stance, always steady on both legs. If your opponent is stronger than you, they might try to push you or grab you to throw you on the floor or against a wall. You want your feet grounded but ready to move.”

The flow of advice continued as she did her best to understand them and apply them the best she could. Sometimes they were coming from Matt, sometimes from Frank, and they kept correcting detail after detail. 

When she finally stopped after having imitated Matt’s strikes and counters properly at least once, they clapped and congratulated her. Frank threw her a bottle of water and she gulped it down eagerly. 

“Catch your breath, I’ll demonstrate a few movements with Frank,” Matt announced. He turned to her and smiled widely. “You did good, for your first try.”

She managed a breathless, “Thanks,” and sat down heavily in her triangle. Matt got up and shot a small smile at Frank as he came closer to him with two additional sticks he had taken in his bag. He handed them to Frank and adopted a low stance, still smiling.

Frank looked at the sticks and twirled them with ease before mimicking Matt’s stance. 

“Just say when, Red,” he whispered, his tone serious and almost flat. Karen heard the hint of mischief anyway, despite the fact that it had been a long time since she had the opportunity to hang with both of them together. 

Matt ignored it and started a basic attack like the ones Karen had been practicing. 

“When you’re fighting in the Arnis style, you think in terms of angles. Except for ranged weapons, which Frank will tell you are not my specialty most weapons are used the same way, so you’ll be blocking the strike with the same pattern of movements.”

He proceeded to attack Frank with a high strike above his head, and Frank smoothly blocked by raising his arm with his stick extended and lowering his body, before attacking with a side blow that Matt deflected with his other arm. 

“The idea is to have what is in effect a toolbox of strikes, counterstrikes and footwork that you know and can adapt to the fight as it goes on.” Matt explained while countering a low blow directed at his belly like it was nothing. 

They attacked and defended one after the other, not quickly but with a smooth consistency in the rhythm and the movements. 

“For starting, you can think of a rhythm, by counting in your head for exemple, or breathing in a special way.”

Karen could see and sense the rhythm of the fight. It was really slow, far away from a realistic fight, but it was flowing, and there wasn’t a single wasted movement from either of them. 

“But!” Frank took over, suddenly increasing his pace, making strike after strike in every direction while Matt countered just as easily as before, his head barely turning from side to side to hear the strikes coming. “In a real fight,” he feigned a high strike, curved its trajectory at the last second and aimed for the ribs, “you want to throw your enemy off their rhythm.” 

Matt blocked as if he anticipated the feint, then threw his legs into Frank’s stomach, who didn’t deflect the blow but bent forward to minimise the impact. They halted, not even sweating a bit, and Matt smiled. “Which includes attacking in a way your enemy isn’t anticipating.” 

Karen let out a little laugh. “Do you intend on me doing this soon? For now, I don’t even think I can do the first strikes you made.”

“Oh, no,” Matt reassured her. “It was just for the show, really, and to demonstrate one of the biggest differences between training and a real fight.” He accepted the sticks that Frank passed back to him before continuing. “In training, you have a partner. In a fight, you have an enemy. And no matter how hard you try while fighting an opponent in training, you’ll probably never match the bloodthirstiness of an enemy. Your goal is to get as close as possible while respecting your partner’s abilities.” 

Frank sat and turned to Karen. “See how good he is at talking? If he was half as good at fighting, he could fight me like an enemy.” He winked at her gleefully before grabbing at the last second the stick Matt threw at his shoulder. 

“See? Shoulder. You don’t want to aim at the shoulder, it doesn’t hurt enough.” 

With a perfect aim, Frank threw back the stick at Matt’s throat. Thankfully, Matt caught it before it hit him and smiled. He bent to search into his bag and got out the pads he’d packed for Karen. She put them on, tightening the velcro with care. When she got back on her feet, she felt a bit silly, again, and unstable. She was wearing knee, elbow and shin pads, and she felt like she was stuck with weights attached to her body.

Matt came closer until he faced her and resumed his fighting stance. Karen took her sticks and placed her feet around her triangle again. 

“We’ll start with a very simple rhythm. I’ll strike, you counter, you strike, I counter, as simple as that. For now, we’ll practice with a high strike,” he demonstrated the strike and waited for her to counter, which she did after a delay, “a lateral strike for either side,” he came for her left side and she felt the weakness of her left wrist while countering, “and a general low strike.” He aimed at her belly and she blocked, but felt the stick touching her. 

“For that now, you want to come down on my arm or my stick with all your weight, keeping your arm parallel to the ground. With that movement, you give yourself a little space for your belly or your ribs not to be touched, but don’t hesitate to exaggerate. Better striking hard now than being stabbed later.” 

Matt was dead serious, but Frank snickered behind them and it helped Karen relax a little and try to let the movements flow like it did when her friends sparred. 

They started easy, as Matt promised, and she put away her feeling of shame for not mimicking the movements right or mixing the counters. She didn’t have to be ashamed of her performance, she was learning. She had skills the two others didn’t have and she was learning a new one.

She picked up Matt’s breathing pattern soon after they started. He was always keeping the same steady rhythm to the fight, ever so slowly accelerating as she showed she could counter and attack properly. 

When he made a step forward, she first stumbled to establish the distance between them again, but remembered the triangle and the steps she had practiced. So after a couple of strikes exchanged between them, she tried to make a step forward respecting the pattern, and she saw Matt’s lips curving upward. He began to make side steps, and she focused even more to keep the rhythm of the fight while staying aware of her environnement. Perhaps that was why Matt had insisted on training in a forest and not in an empty room. 

She tripped on a root but managed to regain her balance just in time to counter. She used the opportunity to squat and jump on Matt’s legs. She quickly encircled his legs with her arms at knee level and starting with her head, she pushed him with her whole body as she rose up. He hopped on one foot once, then twice, and gave up by falling on the floor. 

Karen thought the fight was over, but Matt did a backward roll, jumped back to his feet and sprang back at her. She quickly raised her guard, now thrilled by the sparring. He attacked her faster and with more strength, and again, she felt how her left side was weaker then her right one. Matt had warned her that Arnis was meant to develop ambidexterity, but for now all she could feel was how she lacked it. 

She parried a particularly strong blow with both sticks, and spun with the momentum, but again managed to stay straight and turn this unexpected movement into a counter attack. Soon enough, Matt implemented spins into his sparring choreography, and once she felt confident, Karen added some. 

They were sparring at a quite fast pace now, and Karen was getting used to countering with two sticks when she felt she wouldn’t have enough strength with only one arm. So she was caught completely by surprise when, as her right side was exposed by her counter, something charged at her and grabbed her around the waist before lifting her off the ground. She tried to hit her opponent with her elbows and felt one strike touching them, but they didn’t falter. 

Instead, they began shaking her around. Something was off, a little voice in Karen’s mind informed her, but she was too overwhelmed by panic to analyse it. She threw her right stick towards her opponent’s legs, and without waiting for a reaction, she frantically scratched and clawed and hit the hands that were holding her, while kicking her feet with all her might. 

The embrace opened up just a tiny bit and with a desperate thrust, Karen managed to get free. She falled on the ground, attempted a forward roll and got on her feet, completely disheveled, out of breath, ready to jump back into the fight, and finally Matt’s voice reached her. 

“Karen! Karen it’s okay, it’s just Frank. Breathe, Karen.” 

Matt was at a respectable distance from her, his hands in the air, and he seemed to be torn between laughter and concern, given the way his body and his voice were shaking. 

Karen blinked, made a clumsy movement to get the hair out of her face and tried to regain control over her heartbeat and her breathing. She took a couple of seconds to identify Frank in front of her, bent forward, hissing and laughing at the same time. 

“Attagirl! Can’t say I’m not proud of you, but damn, my hands hurt,” he said while looking at his hands, an eyebrow raised as if to assess the damage. 

His hands looked like they had been got by a very, very angry cat. There were red scratches all over them, and several fingers were a bit swollen. They weren’t shaking, even a little, but Frank hissed again as he opened and closed them. 

Matt came to him and patted him on the shoulder, now openly laughing. “She kicked your ass!” 

Frank turned to him, and with the same attitude, he returned the patting and said, “As I said, can’t wait for her to kick yours.”

Karen looked at them, bewildered and still recovering. She sat down when she felt her head starting to turn and managed to speak breathlessly. “You… You might want to warn me before, before you do that again. I-I don’t really like being… lifted off the floor like that.” 

Frank and Matt stopped laughing immediately and got closer to her. Frank squatted to be at her level and enquired, his tone concerned. “You okay? I’m sorry, I, I didn’t want to scare you.”

Matt joined him. “I told him to do it, actually. It won’t happen again if you don’t want it to.” 

Karen stared at them, and took a second to appreciate how concerned and attentive they were with her. She breathed in deeply, sighed and tried to regain her composure. 

“I’m alright, thanks. It’s just that… it reminded me of bad memories.” Her voice broke down a bit on her last words and she caught the two men exchanging a glance. Before they could add anything, she continued. “But you proved to me that I wasn’t paralysed by my fears anymore, which is… good. Even though I would have liked another way of testing that.” She made her tone lighter, but she was still shaking, and she could see Matt wasn’t fooled. 

“We’re both deeply sorry. It was insensitive and I didn’t think about the consequences. I apologise,” Matt added, his tone full of sorrow, and he bowed in front of her. 

Frank watched him, then spoke, his voice a bit more light, “Was rude, and I didn’t think of the consequences either. I won’t let the Catholic whip himself alone.” He cast a glance at Karen and let out a tiny smile she returned, a bit embarrassed by all the apologies she was getting. 

She sighed, then rose on her feet and managed to stop shaking. She went and grabbed back the stick she had launched at Frank’s feet. As the two men hadn’t moved, she smiled again, adjusted her hair again to maintain her composure and exclaimed, “Now that you’ve apologised, would you care to explain what I did well and what I got wrong?” She knew that she needed to rationalise and decompose what just happened to her in order to remove all power to the memories that were surging. “Is there a more efficient way to parry and get out of that kind of attack?” 

Frank returned her smile. She could see on his face his pride and joy, and felt all warm as a wave of gratitude for having him as a friend rolled over her. He stood up and started to explain immediately, providing her the structure and the distractions she needed. 

“You reacted really well for someone who’s not trained to do that.” He started to approach, as if to grab her again and show her directly what to do, but gave up on the idea by himself and instead turned, encircled Matt into his arms and brought him to Karen effortlessly. 

Matt pretended to be annoyed by it, but he didn’t move in Frank’s arms and let himself be manhandled. Frank continued as if it was nothing. 

“One of the key elements here is momentum. If you stay still, frozen, or if you try to be just like a rock, heavy and unmoving…” Matt’s face went completely expressionless and he let himself drop like an unconscious body. “It might work at first,” and indeed Frank stumbled a bit to keep the man into his arms, “but if your opponent is strong enough to lift you, you’re as good as dead.” 

Frank took a deep breath, braced himself and lifted Matt off the ground, before miming how he could throw him on the floor. 

“So, what you wanna do is move. Doesn’t matter how at first, don’t take time to think, you don’t have time. Kick your legs like you do when someone wants to tickle you.” Frank proceeded to tickle Matt, which immediately made the man shake to free himself, squirming desperately. “Strike with your elbow behind you.”

Matt moved with great precaution, as he clearly didn’t want to hurt the man that was holding him, but he showed Karen how he pushed his elbows behind him blindly, hoping to strike something. He spoke for the first time since Frank had grabbed him. 

“If that helps, you can hold your hands together, like that.” He formed a fist with one hand and enveloped it in the other. “That way you can add strength to your blows.” 

Frank demonstrated how, if he wasn’t perfectly sticking his head to Matt’s flank, Matt could hit him in the head or in the neck. He winked at Karen. “Never underestimate elbows. They’re one of the deadliest parts of your body.”

“But that’s if you’re not hanging in the air, because you still need to be balanced to strike hard enough.” Again, Frank picked up Matt, and Matt obligingly showed how much harder it was for him to attack. Karen knew he was exaggerating a bit, but he was soon breathing hard. 

“Plus, if you do that, you leave an open door for your enemy to crush your ribs.” Frank subtly changed the way he was holding Matt by joining his hands together in a tight embrace, and he clenched his muscles slightly to squeeze him. Matt winced and changed his tactic immediately by bringing his hands back to Frank’s arms and pushing on them, kicking his legs to create more space again. 

“So what you did was a really good response. You have to tell yourself that one of the weak points of this embrace I’ve got Matt in is these.” Frank wiggled his fingers. “So, you turn into a wild beast, you kick in the air like an angry baby and you attack your enemy’s hands. Hitting, clawing, biting if you can, twisting the finger if you manage to grab one, everything is good.”

Matt showed her, with a deliberately slow pace, some possibilities she had. As soon as Frank loosened his grip and created some space between his fingers, Matt seized two fingers in one hand, took Frank’s wrist with his other hand and twisted backward. Frank didn’t move at all at first, and Matt raised an eyebrow and turned to him, his expression interrogative. He pulled harder, tightening his grip, and Frank’s embrace must have loosened again because Matt sprang like the devil, turned the wrist he was holding and gave a final twist that made Frank fall to his knees, his body tensed and trying to escape. Frank tapped on the floor twice with his free hand.

Matt immediately released him and helped him back on his feet. Frank patted him on the shoulder with a big smile, then turned to Karen, who was still surprised by how fast Matt had moved when he had spotted the opportunity. 

“Care to try now, Karen?” Frank enquired, opening his arms. 

Karen took a moment to consider it. She didn’t want to ruin all of her efforts, but part of her wanted to test it, to see if she could do the same as Matt and escape. Plus, she knew Frank would never hurt her. Even when he had charged her and had her hanging in the air, the attack lacked the ferocity and the sense of  _ danger _ she had felt when she had been first attacked that night in her apartment, she could now tell. 

She stood up and went into Frank’s arm, turning around. She was smaller than Matt, and Frank was taller than him, so he overshadowed her entirely. But he didn’t close his arms yet. Instead, he kept them open until Karen’s heartbeat slowed down. She hadn’t even noticed it was racing like that, as was her breathing, but she was glad he had. 

When she felt ready, she closed Frank’s embrace by herself, and shivered as she felt the strength that surrounded her. He probably could crush her ribs if he wanted to. 

“Ready?” He whispered in her ear, his tone serious, and she clenched her jaw and braced herself. 

“Yes.”

~°~

After that, after she had escaped Frank’s embrace first once, then twice, then several times, each time a little bit faster, each time less panicked, as he held her with more strength, even if he forced her to really strike instead of freeing her immediately, they showed her other options she had. They added items to her toolbox. 

So she rolled forward, she grabbed legs, arms, wrists, fingers, she kicked ribs, necks, patellas, she stomped on feet and she screamed. 

They had both told her that she needed to breathe. Inexperienced fighters often forgot to breathe as they executed their defenses and ended up winded after only a couple of movements. And a great way to breathe was to scream. It could startle the enemy, catch the attention of witnesses, and screaming meant breathing.

When Frank and Matt had demonstrated how to scream, she had laughed at first. Matt was making short, breathless grunts, with a rhythm she had a hard time to pick up at first,but that she couldn’t not hear after that. Frank, on the other hand, was alternating between grunts, low rumbles, and frantic, primal screams. Karen remembered how feral he had seemed to her whenever he had been fighting near her, the anger, the  _ ire _ he had deployed, and she was glad he was on their side. 

She felt strangely light-headed by the end of their lesson. She was disheveled, but so was Matt, so she didn’t care. She had bruises on her arms, but nothing close to the impressive collection Frank sported on his arms. Matt had a large one on his left leg, where she had kicked him with her heel at some point. 

They were all sitting on the ground, forming a triangle. Frank offered her the water bottle and she drank a bit. She didn’t feel thirsty, but she knew she had to stay hydrated anyway. Matt took a couple of sips and Frank finished the bottle, letting out a content sigh after he took the last sip. 

Matt tilted his head and asked, “How are you feeling now, Karen? Better?” 

She answered quickly, her tone a bit rough after all the screaming. “Much better, thank you.” She paused, taking her time to organise her thoughts. “I don’t feel as powerless as I did before, and it’s… it feels good.” 

Frank laughed, his tone a bit playful but his face serious as he said, “You were never powerless, Karen. You just had to… sharpen your weapons.”

She smiled and nodded. Fatigue was now creeping up on her, and she shivered. The afternoon had whizzed by and a few clouds were hiding the sun. The temperature had dropped a few degrees, and Karen realised she was a bit sweaty, which didn’t help her feel warmer. She grabbed her vest and put it on quickly, savouring its fresh scent. 

“We should go back, I think,” she said, now exhausted. “Unless you want to do a full survival day in the woods?” 

Frank snorted. “Not yet, but thanks for the offer, I’ll remember it.” His eyes glinted mischievously, but Karen knew he was perfectly capable of organising something like that one day. 

They gathered their belongings, careful not to forget anything. Matt’s belly started to rumble and he visibly blushed before digging a snack bar from his bag. He slowly chewed it, holding it with his teeth while packing up the rest of the things he had brought, when Frank came close to him and stole half of it with a smooth movement. 

Matt protested with incoherent sounds but Frank put his entire part of the bar into his mouth and chewed it proudly. Matt threw his leg at him but Frank caught it easily and used the opportunity to make Matt jump on one foot from where they had trained to the car, despite Matt’s vehement protestations. 

Karen laughed at them, but couldn’t help to feel even more tired just by seeing them. They didn’t seem exhausted like her, but hey, they were trained to do way more. And she was grateful for the distraction. 

Frank took the wheel this time, sending Karen to the back with Matt’s bag to use as a pillow if she wanted to sleep. Matt turned on the radio as the car’s engine fired up, and they drove back to Hell’s Kitchen listening to a folk-rock station. Frank knew some of the songs and sang along happily, sometimes joined by Matt, their voices complementing each other. 

Karen lay in the back of the car, drowsy but not asleep. It reminded her of the trips she took with her family when she was a child. She would fall asleep in the back of the car, covered with everyone’s coats. Then it would be her brother who fell asleep on her, and she would stroke his hair while listening to her parents’ conversation. 

Now she was alone in the back of the car, but she didn’t feel lonely. Instead, she felt surrounded by love, and ready to fall asleep, something she hadn’t been able to do outside of her apartment for ages. The voices of her friends were a sweet lullaby to her ears and her muscles ached, but it was an ache she was proud of. 

She must have fallen asleep at some point, because she came back to her senses when she heard the car doors open and close. She stretched and winced, and decided to have a hot bath as soon as she was home. 

Frank appeared next to her car door and opened it for her. She got out as smoothly as possible, given her stiff muscles, and blinked until her eyes adjusted to the light. Frank had brought them close to her apartment, and she thanked him for taking the wheel. 

“Nah, that’s nothing, don’t worry ‘bout it,” he replied, waving his hand. They watched Matt as he got out of the car, waited for a break in the traffic, and came around to join them. Frank tossed him his bag, and Matt grabbed it easily and put it on his back. 

“Well, thank you for today, it was amazing,” Karen said gratefully, rubbing her hands together. There was a cold breeze that made her shiver after the comfortable warmth of the car. 

“A pleasure,” Frank responded first, and Matt added just after him. “And you did wonderfully, Karen.” 

She let out a little laugh, looking at the ground to escape the attention and the compliments, and shivered again. 

“Come on, go home now, we’ll see you tomorrow.” Matt must have sensed her shivering and he hurried her to the door. 

“I’m taking this blind man home, don’t worry about him,” Frank joked as he took Matt’s arm. 

Karen hurried back to her front door and waved them goodbye. She observed them for a few seconds. They were walking at a fast pace, clearly set by Frank, and it looked like Matt was explaining something to him as Frank was nodding regularly. 

Karen smiled, and pushed her door to get back inside. She painfully climbed the stairs, her muscles reminding her how hard she had worked with every step, and she sighed in contentment when she closed the door of her apartment behind her. 

She ran herself a bath, relishing in the hot water for longer than she intended to, and ate some leftovers she had in the fridge while watching a culinary show. Right as she was going to bed, her phone chimed. Intrigued, she opened the message – it was from Matt – and a large smile appeared on her face. 

It was a picture of the two sticks she had trained with, along with a short message. 

“See you soon?” 

Karen curled under her blanket, put her phone back on her bedside table and whispered for herself. 

“Yep, see you soon.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you have a moment and enjoyed your reading, let me know your thoughts in the comments! Thank you~


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